2. Marching Orders
Marching Orders
BETTY
Isat in a drawing room, hands folded, awaiting my fate. Everyone at the palace ran late, and I had a flight back to Florida to catch. Finally, a familiar face appeared. My cousin Cici arrived and sat beside me.
“Your Dad is dragging this out. Am I marching to my death or receiving an honor?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Mamma is probably talking the ambassador’s damn ear off. I figured I’d stop by and see you. You weren’t here long.”
“I was here for Magne’s christening but that was pretty much it, yeah.”
She sighed wistfully.
“You miss it, huh?” I asked.
Cici shrugged. “What good does it do to say it? Of course I miss competing, but it was time to pass the torch, sweetheart.”
Until this year, Cici competed regularly as an eventing star.
She made a name for Norwegians at the Olympics.
As her parents aged and her father reached the unofficial threshold for Scandinavian monarchs, she prioritized her official crown princess duties.
The shift struck me as cruel—especially as I was too far down the line of succession to face the same choice.
“So, why am I here?”
“Dad has a project. I’ll let him explain it. Just know that I volunteered for it but was told absolutely not.”
I cocked my head. “Why give me something?”
“I don’t think he has yet. It’s an offer.”
One I cannot refuse, I suspect.
“Why?”
Cici’s face dropped, “I have suspicions, but I won’t get into it.”
Her cryptic response unsettled me, but I couldn’t unpack it while I attended to her father’s entrance.
“Ah, there you two are!” I turned to the doorway.
My uncle stood with a neutral expression—his equivalent of a big grin. I stood on instinct.
“I was just keeping her company.” Cici stood to pass him.
“You know how your mother is!” He called, then returned to me. “And how are you? I am sorry I didn’t get to say a single word to you at the christening.”
“You did,” I said. “It was ‘hello’.”
He shook his head. “Not like that. Sit, sit.”
I did as directed, neatly crossing my legs at the ankle and sitting with perfect posture. Everything about this place felt different from my every day. I longed for my horses and hay in my hair.
“So, as you know we’re down another with Rose out soon,” Uncle Olav said.
I swallowed hard, putting things together.
Rose would be on leave in a few months. Cici’s mood made sense.
She and her husband Isak were unable to have children.
My brother’s wife, Rose, recently told the immediate family that they were pregnant with a third.
Every reminder pained Cici even if she didn’t admit it. She always smiled through the pain.
“I haven’t told Cecilia yet. Your aunt says—”
“Cici knows deep down,” I interrupted. “Just confirm it.”
He nodded. “I know I should listen to the women, but… well, I tend to dig holes.”
He did. The man was the ultimate buyer of “I fucked up” jewelry for Aunt Kiersten.
“Well, as you know, we’re hosting UniVox in Trondheim in June.”
I nodded. “Yes. I heard something about singers or some such.”
“There is a big documentary coming. This year is juicy. After the scandal—”
“There was a scandal?” I fought a laugh.
“Do you live under a rock?”
“No, I live in America. We don’t care about obscure European song competitions.”
“A songwriter who is Swedish born wrote a song everyone thought would win the competition for Sweden last year, but somehow it didn’t make the cut. People cried foul over the selection and blamed the committee for Norway’s win. You know how the Swedes are.”
I snickered. “The classic retort.”
“Well, the Swede is a turncoat working for the Brits now and they have a real shot. And the same guy accused of bad behavior in Sweden last year has another act in the mix.”
I knew it was supposed to be juicy, but just didn’t care enough about a silly music competition to invest the energy in contrived drama.
“It is all anyone can talk about! Anyhow, it is coming and we will be hosting in style. But on top of that, the documentarians want to follow you around as you meet and greet the people. They asked for a modern, public face.”
My brow furrowed. “And you can’t ask Lars because you’re not sure if Rose can travel?”
“I can’t ask your older brother because we both know Lars is not the type to… engage with artists.”
I snickered. My oldest brother was a competitive sailor and engineer, but not one to hobnob with bohemians. His vibrant Scottish-born wife, Rose, was the perfect complement, but unavailable.
“I follow you, but what about Cici?”
“Cici has one year from now to take over,” Olav said. “I’ve made it clear. It’s her playing field. As my father did before me, I am stepping back. You, my dear, are young, interesting, and don’t come with baggage or obligation.”
“Well, I have competitions. I can’t just—”
“Parliament is putting pressure to expel people from the house who cannot commit to at least some duties.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“We don’t have enough people,” Olav said. “I can’t lose another seat at the table. Or, rather, dear Cecilia cannot. Bless her. She and Isak have enough to do until your brother’s kids are full-blown adults. Succession crisis and all of that… they are so overloaded.”
I nodded in understanding, still aching for Isak and Cecilia with every mention of the so-called “succession crisis”.
Uncle sighed, “A year ago we sat here and you told me you wanted work.”
“Sure, when I’m in Norway, but I wasn’t supposed to—”
“You own a house here, do you not?”
“Yes, but I planned to summer in London with Keir and Ingrid. She’s in the same boat—”
“Perhaps they could come north and visit?”
He knew it wasn’t that simple for my other brother to just appear. My complicated origin story aside, no one wanted to hang out in Trondheim.
“You’ve got time to change plans I’m sure.”
“And if I say no?” I asked.
“I cannot protect you from parliament. Cici needs you,” Uncle said. “Betty, you must prove those not in the most immediate line of succession deserve a seat at the table so that some day when Lars’s kids take over, they can also share the burden.”
No pressure, babes!
“I will think about it.”
“You were born a princess, Betty,” he continued.
“You were an unexpected gift who brought happiness. You have a zest for life about you that I think Cici could really use around here. Ever since she left to be a full-time Crown Princess, it’s been a bit doom-and-gloom.
She misses her baby cousin. Wouldn’t it be nice to be closer? ”
As a person, I wasn’t sold. As an athlete, I was livid. But as an aunt and a beloved cousin, I was trapped. Familial duty overrode all else.
“Yes, Your Majesty, I sighed. I will carry on the fine tradition of giving it my all.”
“And Norwegians will love you for it,” he added.
I had no idea how that bit would pan out, nor could I.